Furthest from god
by Crankious
Summary: In the year 1018, after his failed visit at Ketil's farm, King Canute's past with Thorfinn comes back to bite him.


_**Authors note: **__After some research on the real Cnut the Great's two wives, it's apparent to me that the Author of Vinland saga Yukimura decided to write Cnut's first wife Ælfgifu out of the series. And as a result, I removed her from this Oneshot. The most current chapter in the manga is chapter 164, and Emma of Normandy has yet to be introduced into the series, I have therefore taken myself some liberties. I hope you enjoy this small Thornute fic._

_Year 1018 London, England._

She knew that Canute had been aware of her investigating his past, there was no way he wouldn´t, he had done nothing to hinder her nor made no attempt to stop her. Almost as if he was testing her, or perhaps confident in her inability to find any hints.

But her old confidant and advisor Stigand had found a source upon her request. And she had gotten answers. Perhaps Canute knew this as well.

It was when she slipped through the door to his bedroom, dressed in her nightgown she would confront him with her findings, well knowing it could cost her life, as well as that of her two sons Canute had exiled to Normandy should this go awry. She could not afford to fail.

"Your highness, I've come."

"I know why you are here Emma." She couldn't make out the face of her young husband, as he stood with his back to her – eyes piercing through the glass of his window.

Unwavering in her determination, Emma bit her lip.

"For the two years we've been wed, never have I seen you fold your hands during prayer, and I've always wondered why. I believe I know now."

Canute turned his head slightly.

"You despise him, the lord, to damn your people to live and die without his love and most of all you. Perhaps it is he you mutter to when your servants find you talking to yourself."

His eyes met hers.

But he did not speak.

"Perhaps this is why you allow me to heal your strained relationship with the church undisturbed."

Emma wasn't ignorant of the Danish way, but in all respects and purposes, she had more freedom with Cnut than Aethelred. And for a long time she had suspected their ten-year difference in age being the cause of this, perhaps he saw her as a motherly figure but no, now she knew why.

"I know why you've held no bodily desire for me. Why you cannot partake in your marital duties lest I get on my fours. I know what happened in England, of a desire that befell you there."

The Danish word 'argr' would not pass her lips but it lingered in her mind.

Her words seemed to rouse some emotion in Canute as he now turned to face her fully. A vacant stare replacing the kindness he usually held for her.

"I see Emma. So you too, are blackmailing me."

Canute's words stood still in the air, like the specs of dust in the light of the torches glowing through the window.

"Yes."

Emma noted how his shoulders fell as he turned his head, his usual kind eyes slitting into a look that shook her core. "You understand the ramifications of your words, do you not _wife_?"

Emma nodded.

"Who told you" he seethed, "Who would remain alive to tell you"

Emma bit her lip, the fear leaving her heart throbbing wildly in her chest. "A man of no importance, a retired warrior, now a shepherd. I met with him, and he swore on his name to never tell anyone. For he knew the knowledge could lead to his death and as a result that of his dependent brother and family."

"And you chose to believe him" Canute's voice cracked; his undoing laid bare before him.

"I do, for his eyes did not betray his words like yours did the day you wed me."

"I married you after I committed the sin of widowing you, you wished for this arrangement. What more could you wish from me."

"I wish for my children with you to be the first in the line of succession Canute. You have not yet touched me since the night of our wedding, I wish a son, and another attempt to get you another."

"and if you are not able to procure me a son?"

"Then I shall fill your nursery so that no great man nor king in Europe shall go without one of your daughters for his bride"

Canute looked out of the window; the inner workings of his mind unknown to her.

"I will never love, nor desire you. Care for you, perhaps, but it will never be love."

"Yes, your highness."

"The day you birth a son and his sibling is born; I will no longer lay with you."

"Yes, your highness."

Canute looked at her, the contorted surprise that had stained his face melted away into that of a more stoic expression.

"You are a curious woman, to blackmail your husband; a sinner furthest from god's love. To lay with you."

"I care not what sins you have committed in the face of our Lord nor for your love, but the longevity of my house and the safety of my children. My work for the church will usher me into his embrace upon the day of my deathbed and will be my penance for bedding a sinner, but for you – I cannot say the same."

Canute´s fingers traced the scar on his cheek, he was quiet.

"Initially I was offended, I wondered if you found me unsightly due to our ten-summer difference. But now I pray to the lord, to balm the profound sadness within you. For the lord bestowed you everything, everything except the subject of your carnal desire."

Canute's gaze steeled. "I do not need pity from you, lady Emma."

"It struck me as odd when you returned from Ketil's farm in good humour. Ulf told me the name of the warrior, and how he took a hundred punches to the face to negotiate with you. How Ulf had seen you laugh for the first time since he met you. And outside of admiration I never thought anything about it, until I heard that selfsame name from that Shepherd."

Canute's eyes remained on her, still and unwavering.

"You were relieved weren't you, that Thorfinn Karlsefni was still alive?"

The air in the room grew cold between them.

Canute, however, did not respond.

"Tell me about him, I wish to know about him."

"Under no circumstances." Canute finally uttered waving his hand.

"Then I shall ask Thorkell the Tall, I believe he is the man's great uncle."

"Fine, I shall give in to your demands, under the condition that you speak to no one of this – not even Ulf. You shall take this to your grave, understood?" Canute breathed; his brow furrowed in frustration.

"There are gates that shouldn't be pried open, and like a battering ram you have pried a gate open that has been shut for four years." His voice held a tone of vulnerability, one Emma had never heard before.

"Consider yourself dismissed Emma." He muttered, attempting to wave her off, but Emma would have none of it.

"No."

"What?"

With a held breath Emma's nightgown fell open, her eyes piercing him insistently.

With downcast eyes, Canute walked towards his bed, motioning for her to follow.

As she got on her fours, Canute slid her blond locks off her back and her nightgown with it.

"His hair was blonde and filthy, his eyes brown."

His hand slid down her unblemished back.

"And his body was riddled with scars"


End file.
